Move Along
by CrypticKilljoy
Summary: Dramonine, with later elements of Drarry. Smutty goodness.


**I OWN NOTHING! I Ship Dramonie and Drarry. This is not a crime. Enjoy ;)**

"Oh, Malfoy! Will you leave me alone!" Screeched the fifth year; Hermione Granger. She was once again being followed by Draco Malfoy. A boy whom she had one, unwittingly, or more precisely, unwillingly, confessed she had deep feelings for – with the aid of truth potion. Since that time, Draco had become more a lap dog than arch nemesis. He followed Hermione and her friends, desperately seeking a one-on-one conversation with her. Each of his attempts, however, had been rebuked by an outrageously protective boyfriend in Harry Potter.

It would have been more sensible for Malfoy to desist in his obsessive stalking of Hermione once she and Harry became a school-known couple, but, Draco was not well known for his logical thinking.

"Hermione, I'll leave you alone if you answer me one thing, truthfully," He stated calmly, catching up to her as she had tried to escape up the marble staircase.

For once, Hermione turned to face the young boy who was behind her and in that moment, her life and all its meaning seemed to fall to pieces. Draco smiled a shy smile – the candle-light glinting off his perfectly straight white teeth. The deep gray recess of mystery that were Draco's eyes shone with a feverish hunger as he took a further step closer to her. It was to this boy, this beautiful, intriguing young man that she loved and yet, she knew that their relationship could never amount to anything... He was a pure blooded Slytherin and she was a muggle-born Gryffindor. No-one could be more opposite than these two.

"Do you think we could work?" He asked; his words barely a whisper in the darkening corridors.

She nodded briefly and descended the staircase.

Once the pair was within inched of each other, Draco reached out a hand to her arm and pulled her close. Within seconds, Hermione had forgotten all pre-conceived ideas that she and Draco were such opposites. She had forgotten about Harry.

Her own hand wrapped intricately into Draco's as he led her through the darkness, his feet guided by purpose and desire. He shuddered to a stop outside of an empty classroom and pulled Hermione inside.

The door snapped shut behind Draco and he felt the wave of desire ripple through him as he took in Hermione's figure, hidden beneath the unflattering layers of robes. Almost as if she felt his thoughts, Hermione perched herself on the edge of the desk and rid herself of her robe; leaving only her thin cotton shirt and skirt. The growl of hunger practically ripped from his chest as he crawled up her body; his ice cold hands exploring beneath the shirt, while Hermione attached her lips to his desperately; he allowed her tongue to roam freely in his mouth – the battle for dominance so obviously lost. Draco's hand slid to her thigh and roughly shoved her skirt up passed her thighs. He momentarily deliberated for a moment his next course of action. However, impatience got the better of him.

He fought with his own robe and shirt. Deftly and more expertly than Draco would have previously guessed, Hermione slid a hand to his shirt and swifter than he could have wrenched the fabric from his body. Her fingers traced the pale white planes of his chest and danced along the waistband of his pants, before, without any prior warning they darted inside his pants and teased his now throbbing and painful erection.

"You're a bitch really, aren't you, Herm?" He whispered acidly, though his breathing had become labored.

"You _LOVE_ it though, Draco." She sneered, in a voice and sneer to rival his own. Hermione chuckled when Draco gasped as she gripped him through the thin cotton boxers.

Having been at a loss for several seconds, Draco forced the shirt from Hermione's body, revealing her figure in all its perfection. He removed Hermione's hand from his pants, albeit begrudgingly, and began to leave a trail of kissed from his jaw down to her chest. With one hand, he unclasped the black lace bra, which was an obstacle he had forgotten about for a moment. Finally rid of it, his tongue traced a trail around her nipple, while the other hand had cupped her breast, earning a groan of pleasure to escape her perfect lips.

Satisfied with his effort, Draco forced himself up and finally rid himself of his pants and boxers. Gently, he returned to his original position and eased Hermione's lace pants from beneath her skirt. One hand cupped Hermione's neck as he attacked her lips ferociously and hungrily, whilst the other hooked her leg around his waist.

Draco barely felt the nails that were dragged down his spine as he slid inside her for the first time. He was unaware of anything, apart from her eyes to which his own were locked. Her laborious breathing filled the room, mingled with his own groaning lust. To prevent anyone hearing their exploits, Draco dragged her face to his neck, where, she nibbled at the skin, to avoid releasing the screams that were so evidently close to ripping from deep within her throat.

A shiver ran through Hermione's body as she shook with the intensity of her orgasm. She lifted her lips from Draco's neck to his earlobe and whispered, "I love you, Draco Malfoy!" it was a whisper laced with a passionate and desire.

Feverishly, Draco forced her to face him as he felt himself reach his own orgasm. He gripped at Hermione's waist, keeping her body hard against his as he came inside her.

"I love you, too, Hermione." He sighed breathlessly, collapsing against the table top and pulling Hermione's naked body close to his own.

For a while the pair lay in silence; nothing could be heard except their regulating breathing. Draco twirled one of Hermione's curls around his finger, deep in thought, suddenly, word floated into his subconscious. **_Harry_**.

He muttered the words into the silence, hoping that he and Hermione might be able to work through that little problem. He was not, however, surprised when Hermione jumped to her feet and began to get dressed.

"I'm sorry, Draco. I really am." She grimaced, tugging her robe over her head. "I wanted us to work, but, we're just too different. Our lives are worlds apart; you're the pure blood, Slytherin prince. I'm the muggle-born you and your friends use for fun. I'll always love the fact that you and I COULD have been together, maybe in another time. But, not now. So, I hope you understand." Hermione finished morosely, slipping her wand inside her robes and stepping out of the door.

Draco understood; he felt his heart fracture as the door shut on his one possible love. For once in his life, up until that point, Draco hated his Slytherin heritage and his family, because, undoubtedly, Hermione was right, again. She and him could have been together, however, they could not exist in a world where pure blood mania had reached a new zenith and pure bloods were being raised in the knowledge that anyone less than pure blood was inferior.

As a tribute to the girl he loved and the final request she had made of him, Draco was to understand their relationship would never amount to anything and consequentially forget about the encounter they had just shared. For her, Draco could do this. He set about collecting his things together and getting dressed.

While Draco had been coming to these conclusions, Hermione had straightened out her head and made her way up to the Gryffindor common room; she found that Harry was waiting for her to return.

"You've been a long time." He said simply, sitting her on the arm of his chair delicately.

"I know, love. I was in the library." Hermione explained; there was no need for Harry to doubt this. After all, Hermione did spend a good portion of her time in the library.

But, as Hermione bade Harry goodnight, she did not see him take out a slip of worn parchment from inside his robes; the Marauder's Map. Into the silence of the empty common room, Harry whispered "Mischief Managed" and, as quickly as he could manage, scurried to the portrait hole. 


End file.
